


The Smoke and the Spark

by non_tiembo_mala



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, Grinding, Hand Job, M/M, POV Bucky Barnes, Semi-Public Sex, Shotgunning, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:01:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21602656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/non_tiembo_mala/pseuds/non_tiembo_mala
Summary: They tried this once, before the war. Steve hadinsisted, and there’s no fighting him when he’s made his mind up, so it was all Bucky could do but give in. Steve’s lungs hadn’t liked it one bit, nor had his stomach given by the retching that followed, but his body is considerably more forgiving these days.“Sweetheart, you wanna try?”
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 42
Kudos: 269





	The Smoke and the Spark

**Author's Note:**

> My first post in months! I finished something! Ahhhh! *does happy dance*
> 
> (what's more, I have ANOTHER fic 99% finished and nearly ready for posting! It's a miracle!)
> 
> Unbeta'd, so the mistakes are all mine. In addition, I must add the disclaimer that this fic deals with subject matter in which I have zero first hand experience (smoking) so while I've done my best research-wise, I apologize for anything that makes you go 'uh, no.' If you have a moment like that, I would love the feedback so I can make it better!
> 
> Title from Chris Cornell's _The Keeper_. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Bucky lost track of Steve almost two hours ago.

Well, that’s not entirely accurate. Steve is with Thor, or at least, that’s where Bucky left him. 

Thor is offworld a lot, so when he happens to be around for one of Tony’s shindigs, it tends to make the evening a little special. Steve really likes him – honestly so does Bucky, it’s kind of hard not to – but that means they stay later than they normally would, and tonight is no exception. 

The small number of elite guests has dwindled but Bucky’s tolerance for small talk with people he barely knows had dwindled faster, so he had excused himself with a reassuring squeeze of Steve’s shoulder to go outside on the balcony to take in the view of New York City in relative peace. 

Natasha and Sam had found him and sprawled nearby on the lushly cushioned patio furniture to keep him company, which he didn’t mind. Bucky isn’t always up for talking but Nat and Sam are familiar and easy; they make him laugh. Bucky enjoys how easy it is rile to Sam up, glancing sideways at Natasha and switching to Russian only to have her respond in kind.

The second time they do it, Sam narrows his eyes. “C’mon, man! That’s just rude is what it is.”

Bucky had apologized while still grinning, and Sam smiled back even as he stood to leave, assuring them that it was way past his bedtime.

Alone with Natasha, Russian is the default, but that’s if they speak at all. Nat is quiet, and Bucky finds her silence strangely companionable. He appreciates her presence. 

Sam isn’t gone long when Bucky finds himself yawning and tipping his head back against the lounger he’s sitting on, looking up at the moon and thinking about how it’s past his bedtime, too. 

Curling up under his duvet wrapped around Steve is a tempting thought, so Bucky is just debating going to interrupt whatever undoubtedly boisterous antics are surely going on back inside when Natasha nudges his knee. 

Bucky’s eyes slide away from the moon to look at her. She’s leaning forward across the gap between their loungers with an open pack of Prima cigarettes in her hand. 

Bucky raises an eyebrow. He hasn’t seen those in a long time and hasn’t smoked one in even longer.

“Go on,” she says, shaking the package before tapping the bottom on the heel of her hand, pulling out two cigarettes. She takes one between her lips and offers the other to Bucky. 

The strange feelings of nostalgia are not particularly sentimental, but Bucky can’t deny the sudden thrum of longing now that it’s in his mind. Thinking back before Prima, _way_ back, maybe the associations aren’t so bad at all, a simple, every day part of life back in the thirties, before all this. He smiles a little.

“Yeah, alright.” Bucky takes it in his flesh hand. “Thanks.”  
  
“Mhm,” Nat hums and reaches into her cleavage to pull out a tiny lighter. 

Bucky doesn’t bat an eye, though it does make him wonder just for a moment where exactly the packet of cigarettes was hiding all this time.

Nat flicks the sparkwheel with her thumb and then holds the newborn flame between them. Bucky shelters it with his metal hand and holds the cigarette to his mouth with the other as they both lean in. 

It’s familiar as soon as he pulls it into his mouth, the paper catching with the intake of his breath. It’s a little weird, doing something he hasn’t done since he was the Soldier. He sends a silent, sincere thank you to Shuri with the relief that nothing unpleasant comes to mind, instead his sense memory brings him back to France or Italy, battlefronts or Brooklyn. 

He takes the smoke into his lungs as he sits back, relaxing and letting his mind wander where it wants. It’s strangely comforting, reassuring even, that first hit warm and thick in his throat. The exhale feels like gentle relief, and Bucky surprises himself by groaning a little.

Natasha’s eyes have never left him, and now her smirk turns decidedly smug. 

“Thought you’d like that,” she says, pleased. 

Bucky takes another drag, melting into how it feels and shakes his head a little. She definitely had his number on this one. 

“Thanks,” he says again, this time with more meaning. She just nods takes another drag of her own. 

The New York lights flicker and glow past the glass barrier along the outside of Tony’s absurd 30th floor balcony, the constant noise of the city a muffled din beyond the wind and otherwise more immediate quiet. The stars are mostly drowned out but the view is pretty spectacular in its own right, and Bucky finds it easy to get lost looking at it, thinking of all the places he and Steve knew back in the day, how it’s changed, and places they know now. 

“Ah, there they are!”  
  
Thor’s booming voice is jarring, loud as the patio door slides open somewhere behind them, drawing their attention.

Bucky turns in his place to see Tony dramatically flourish as he holds the door open, and Steve – Bucky’s beautiful Steve – offers a sloppy salute as he passes through. 

Steve is grinning and noticeably pink cheeked as the trio make their way towards them, and Bucky can’t help the amused grin that blooms around his cigarette at the sight. He has very clearly gotten into Thor’s mead again.

“There goes the neighbourhood,” Natasha grouses to Bucky, loud enough for them all to hear her in case they missed her dramatic eye roll. She just barely manages to scooch out of the way as Tony flops down onto the edge of her lounger despite the surplus of available seating. Thor sits down at the end of the next closest couch, watching Natasha grumpily shift to accommodate Tony’s company before settling again, plastered against his side.

“Bucky!” Steve exclaims delightedly, not surprised but so genuinely happy to see him that in that moment he very accurately resembles an overgrown puppy, bright eyed and irresistable. 

Bucky looks up at him just as he drops a knee on either side of Bucky’s thighs and sits unceremoniously in his lap.

Yeah, definitely a puppy. 

“ _Oof_ ,” Bucky exhales at the sudden weight of him, moving his hand holding the cigarette out of the way, dropping ashes onto the ground instead of onto Steve. His other hand instinctively finds its way to Steve’s waist.

“Ugh, Rogers, you would be a handsy drunk,” Tony groans, flailing a hand in their direction before dragging it over his face.

“Rich from you, Stark,” Thor counters, raising a knowing eyebrow at Tony before returning his gaze and wholly approving smile back towards Steve and Bucky. Natasha chuckles. 

“Bucky,” Steve says again, and this time he does seem surprised, so Bucky stops looking over his shoulder at their friends to look at Steve’s face, giving his waist a gentle squeeze.

He’s looking at Bucky wide eyed, both brows up, and he looks so young and just as pretty as ever that Bucky’s heart honest to god flutters. 

“Yeah, Stevie?” He asks, a little breathy and low, their company be damned, just for Steve to hear. It’s not until he’s bringing the cigarette to his mouth that he realizes that’s what Steve is looking at him like that for, his baby blues focused on the glowing ember held between Bucky’s pursed lips. 

“Hmm,” Bucky hums in recognition, absentmindedly tugging at the tucked in edge of Steve’s button-down until his metal fingertips brush warm skin, teasing along the top of Steve's jeans. 

Steve’s surprise settles into simple attention as Bucky moves the cigarette away again and, keeping his eyes on Steve, turns his head to breathe it out away from him.

“Compliments of Natasha,” Bucky explains, watching Steve intently as he tries to get a read on him. “That okay?”

The colour high in Steve’s cheeks deepens, spreads to more of his face. 

“Yeah, Buck, of course,” Steve says in a rush, voice a little rough. “Jus’ been a long while is all. Since I’ve seen you smoke.”  
  
Bucky’s smile returns at that. He makes a show of it this time, bringing the cigarette to his lips, tilting his head back a little to expose his throat as he inhales, eyes on Steve all the while, whose jaw clenches as he swallows.

“Lay off it, Barnes,” Tony sounds exasperated but if anything that’s just all the more reason – as if the lust darkening Steve’s eyes weren't enough. 

When Bucky exhales, angling the smoke down and into the wind, Steve shifts in a telltale way in his lap and Bucky’s own dick starts to take interest just knowing the effect he’s having on him.

Steve’s hands fist in Bucky’s shirt and Bucky knows all of his husband’s tells; he thrills at seeing Steve like this especially here, with their friends, where he’d usually be so restrained. He reaches up to cup Steve’s face with his free hand, cool metal on smooth skin, then leans in to kiss him quick.

“You like it,” he murmurs against Steve’s lips, then draws back to take it in again, Steve _sitting in his lap_ with audience just behind him. Bucky likes _this_.

“It’s hot, Buck,” Steve answers before kissing him again. “You’re hot.”  
  
Where Bucky was hushed between them, the alcohol makes Steve’s whisper less than quiet. Bucky grins as Tony snorts.

“Is he actually drunk? I thought Tony was joking,” Natasha chimes in, a touch of awe in her voice that tells Bucky this is something new to her. “I didn’t think he could get drunk?”

Steve’s laugh is very close to a giggle as he touches his forehead to the side of Bucky’s head, not hiding or embarrassed, just… happy. 

“Ah, but that’s true when he drinks the stuff of mortal men,” Thor beams proudly. “I brought something better.”

“Fascinating,” Natasha leans back, crossing one arm over her stomach and resting her elbow on the back of that hand, the other at her chin, considering them without shame. 

“I can hear you,” Steve mumbles, though it doesn’t stop him from kissing the side of Bucky’s face, nosing in against his ear.

Bucky’s blood is singing. He loves everything that’s happening right now. With a little booze in him, Steve always was frisky, always did have an exhibitionst streak a mile wide, but the serum’s unfortunate bonus immunity to alcohol seemed to curb that. Steve unapologetically pressing his ass against Bucky’s hard on in full view of other people is a pleasure Bucky didn’t remember how much he was missing.

Natasha’s eyes on them make Bucky want to give her a whole damn show, and judging by the short, hot puffs of breath Steve is letting loose on Bucky’s neck, he wouldn’t put up much protest. 

Bucky flicks the ashes off the cigarette and takes another deep inhale, holding it between his lips to take it out with his left hand now, keen to get skin-on-Steve’s-skin, running his flesh hand up Steve’s thick thigh, over his ass and up his back underneath his untucked shirt and back down again before resting at his hip, pinky and ring finger disappearing under the waist of his jeans.

Steve leans back to watch Bucky smoke, groaning softly when he exhales.

“Oh, just take a drag already, Rogers. It can’t kill you,” Tony huffs, and it would seem he’s annoyed by it all except his continued attention suggests otherwise and Bucky is no fool – he knows _exactly_ how they look.

Thor, for his part, sips from a flask of what Bucky an only assume is the alien concoction responsible for loosening up his husband, and makes no effort to look away. 

Steve tosses a glance at their friends from underneath his practically obscene lashes before looking back at Bucky with a hopeful question in his eye. 

Bucky’s expression is lewd, he knows, but he’s had an idea. They tried this once, before the war. Steve had _insisted_ , and there’s no fighting him when he’s made his mind up, so it was all Bucky could do but give in. Steve’s lungs hadn’t liked it one bit, nor had his stomach given by the retching that followed, but his body is considerably more forgiving these days. 

He knows Steve will understand when he asks; maybe it’s exactly what he already had in mind. 

“Sweetheart, you wanna try?”

Steve is definitely drunk but the challenge implied gives him focus. He adjusts himself in Bucky’s lap, knees pressing further into the couch, resting his hands flat on top of his thighs as he sits upright. He nods eagerly. 

Bucky takes a long pull on the cigarette and Natasha, evidently knowing what they’re about to do, sits forward and says “oh, shit, yes” under her breath.

Bucky still has the cigarette pinched between the second and third fingers of his left hand, locked in place as he wraps the fingers of his other hand around the back of Steve’s neck. Before he exhales, Bucky does quickly kiss Steve, his own mouth closed, though when he draws back it’s only just, brushing their lips together in a way to coax Steve’s open. Their noses bump at the movement, and Steve’s mouth parts so eagerly at Bucky’s prompting, Steve’s hands flexing with anticipation on his own thighs, that Bucky feels a heat only Steve can be the cause of flood his veins. 

Bucky finally breathes out, slow and controlled, his lips just out of Steve’s reach as Steve breathes in, the gentle pull of his inhale a phantom touch to Bucky’s mouth. It’s hot as hell, sharing air with Steve like this, being _watched_ , and Bucky mindlessly kneads his fingers into Steve’s neck, encouraging. _That’s it, baby, just like that. So good._

With nothing left to give, he presses his mouth to Steve’s, hard and insistent for just a moment before he grins, satisfied, and sits back. Bucky breathes in the cool night air through his nose, watching Steve’s face as he briefly holds the smoke in his lungs, a thoughtful and determined expression on his face. 

Natasha whistles, long and low as she sits back as well, and when Steve exhales without incident she even fans herself a little. 

Steve’s face breaks out in a delighted smile – so fucking beautiful – and Bucky knows he’s happy to have done it, nothing like the last time. He nods at Steve in silent question: _how was it?_

“Again,” Steve demands, a glimmer in his eyes to outshine the damn stars. Bucky shakes his head, can only chuckle as he brings the cigarette around for another drag.

“Rebel, Rogers!” Tony exclaims. “America’s golden boy, what would people _say?!_ ” 

Tony feigns being scandalized, and Thor’s warm, full laughter erupts around them. 

Bucky can sense Steve’s hunger right now, for more than just the cigarette and a challenge conquered from his past life, and it only drums up Bucky’s own want. If Steve isn’t careful, Bucky’s going to throw the cigarette and all caution to the wind regarding their audience.

Bucky sits forward again and Steve meets him, nuzzles at his face while Bucky’s throat and chest warm with the held smoke, and Bucky barely contains a groan, instead finds himself tugging at Steve’s hips to bring some friction to his aching dick. 

Steve kisses him then, sloppy, smug, because there’s no mistaking how into this Bucky is now. Bucky isn’t gentle when he pulls and pushes at Steve’s hips, both hands on him, the cigarette pinched tight between two fingers and pointed away from Steve’s body. It jostles him, so Steve gets his hands on Bucky’s shoulders to steady himself, then pulls back, open mouth inviting Bucky to breathe out. 

Bucky does just that, barely any space between their slack lips this time, fighting to exhale steadily instead of all at once so he can crash their mouths together like he wants to. Steve takes it all in, the hands on Bucky’s shoulders sliding in and holding his neck while he pushes his body down into Bucky’s lap as much as this position allows. 

“Fuck, honey,” Bucky gets out, barely, out of breath, before kissing Steve again, leaning up into it. He does flick the cigarette out of his hand and onto the stone patio now, then snakes his arm around Steve’s pretty little waist, slipping his other hand into Steve’s hair.

Steve makes a startled, good-hurt sound in his throat and Bucky breaks the kiss without giving Steve any room. Bucky gasps, takes in a deep breath of air while Steve turns his head to exhale the smoke and do the same.

Bucky doesn’t give him much time or opportunity, using the hand cupping the back of Steve’s head to turn him back and kiss him fiercely, so turned on he might burst out of his skin at any moment. Steve moans into it, hips twitching as he presses in close, and Bucky can feel the hard bulge of him against his stomach.

“Ohmygod,” Natasha says in a rush, just this side of a laugh, clearly surprised but not even remotely bothered. 

“You’re welcome,” Thor offers with a chuckle, and Bucky sees him hold up his flask out of the corner of his eye.

“Oh my god,” Tony echos, much less awestruck than Natasha, instead laced with panic. 

Steve giggles – hand to God _giggles_ – against Bucky’s mouth and that’s all Bucky needs in the way of confirmation that his husband is just as okay being watched right now as he was back in the day, when he was small but no less fiery. 

Bucky holds on to Steve tightly then gets his feet down off the lounger where they were stretched out in from of him to plant them firmly on the ground, giving him better leverage and control. Steve tightens his grip on Bucky’s neck as he holds on through the move, and they both groan as the shift in position slots Bucky’s cock in the dip between Steve’s denim-clad cheeks.

Bucky feels more stable now, and tugs at Steve’s hair to pull his chin up and expose his throat. He growls a little, a low rumble as he bites at Steve’s jaw, then moves to his neck, peppering him with kisses to soothe after playful nips. 

“Oh, god, Buck,” Steve gasps, offering himself up by leaning into the pull of Bucky’s hand, pressing his chest forward as if to pillow Bucky’s head.

“Yeah, alright, we’re leaving now,” Tony says sharply. 

“Stark, I’m surprised at you!” Thor laughs. 

“Speak for yourself, Tony,” Natasha chirps, sounding pleased, and Bucky can’t help but grin against Steve’s throat. It’s always nice to have his suspicions or instincts confirmed.

Bucky noses in under Steve’s collar and sucks hard at the junction where his neck meets his shoulder, making Steve shudder and moan wantonly. _God_ , his husband makes the best sounds, and Bucky is going to take him apart.

Steve is panting, and his hips move in a sinful rhythm, grinding down into Bucky’s lap.

“ _Now_ , Natahsa,” Tony barks.

“Ugh, _fine_ ,” Natasha relents, standing up with a huff. 

“You’re surprisingly no fun at times,” Thor laments as well, though he starts to move away while Tony stands there with his arm extended, ushering him and Natasha towards the doors. 

“Unbelievable!” Tony exclaims under his breath. “The entire lot of you. But especially Rogers and Robocop. I’m never going to be able to look at them the same way again.”

The sounds of their friends’ retreat fades away and Bucky uses their newfound solitude to reach between them and start fumbling with Steve’s belt buckle. 

“ _Bucky,_ ” Steve exhales. He probably means to sound chastising but it’s too breathy and rough to be convincing. 

“Uh huh,” Bucky gets the belt open and works on the button underneath, then pulls down the zipper. “Tell me you don’t like it, sugar. Like you wouldn’a let me if Nat was still sittin’ there watchin’.”

“B–” Steve is about to answer when Bucky slips his hand in to give his aching dick a squeeze. Whatever he was going to say devolves into a moan, and Bucky goes back to nipping at Steve’s neck.

“Can’t fool me, sweetheart,” Bucky murmurs against his skin. “Never could. You think I’d forget you used to like an audience, huh? Like I could ever forget how pretty you fall apart for me when you got a bunch of eyes on you? Jesus, Stevie, always so pretty.”

“ _Fuck,_ Bucky–” Steve attacks his mouth, teeth crashing together in the rush, tongues sliding together as they open wide and fit together for the best access, trying to get as deep as they can. Steve chases the pump of Bucky’s hand on his dick and moves his hips like he’s riding him properly, like Bucky’s balls-deep inside him instead of straining against the own jeans, leaking into his briefs. 

The angle would be awkward but it’s nothing for his metal arm, pumping Steve steadily in the scant space between them, following the movement of Steve’s body. God it’s good, all of it, being out here on the patio, the not-so-distant sounds of the city below them and the heightened thrum of arousal from having made out in front of their friends. Steve isn’t shy with Bucky when they’re alone, never was, but whatever Thor gave him to loosen him up has only made him that much more eager than usual, chasing their release with the single-minded tenacity that has always defined him. 

“That’s it, baby, come on. Get it, Steve,” Bucky eggs him on between sloppy kisses, eating up Steve’s short, desperate breaths. 

It’s Bucky’s turn to whine then as Steve finds it in him to get heavier, pushing harder down against Bucky’s dick, dragging his ass along his length in a torturous back and forth. 

“Oh, honey, _yes_ ,” Bucky moans, the hand not on Steve’s dick holding onto Steve’s hip hard enough to bruise if he were anyone else. 

“Buck– _Bucky_ –”

“Me, too, sugar, me, too. Don’t stop– uh, _Steve!_ ” Bucky comes with a shout, wet heat flooding his pants, and then gasps as the tension breaks, pleasure washing over him and making his toes curl in his shoes.

Steve comes a moment later, spilling over Bucky’s hand and no doubt making a mess of all their clothes, dropping his head to Bucky’s shoulder to moan next to his ear, making Bucky’s hips twitch and his dick gush once more. 

When Steve is spent, Bucky eases up his grip on his still hard cock, and turns to nuzzle at the side of Steve’s face. They just breathe there, bodies heavy and loose, until Steve starts to laugh and sits back.

“I can’t believe we just did that,” he giggles, face still flushed and eyes bright as ever. 

“Yeah? I can,” Bucky admits, letting Steve go to wipe his hand on Steve’s button-down. “Thor should get you drunk more often.”  
  
“Oh, god, Tony,” Steve groans, still laughing as tucks his face back in to Bucky’s neck. 

“Forget Tony,” Bucky says, genuinely not giving a damn. “And gimme your shirt, sweetheart. I gotta clean us up.”

Steve always wears a tight white t-shirt underneath, so he doesn’t hesitate to do as Bucky says, undressing himself and handing it over with a goofy smile. 

Bucky kisses him quick then better wipes off his hand before gently cleaning up Steve’s cock, which is starting to soften, though it twitches at the attention. Bucky tucks him back into his pants, then looks up to see Steve watching him, expression still silly from the drink and so very fond. Bucky beams back, at once inescapably proud of and hopelessly gone for him.

“Always take care’a you, don’t I?” Bucky leans in to kiss him again, slow and sweet. 

“Mhmm,” Steve hums, kissing him back languidly. “Love you, Buck.”

“Mmm,” Bucky echoes him. “Love you, too, sweetheart. Wanna take you home now.”

Bucky has both hands on Steve’s hips but slides them back to cup his ass, give him a squeeze. “Wanna do that again with less clothes on this time, whaddaya say?”

“God, yes,” Steve kisses him more deeply now, that eagerness returning, and Bucky groans around his tongue before pushing him back, putting a stop to it before the urgency kicks in again and they do something Tony _really_ won’t like. 

“You are trouble, Rogers,” Bucky teases against his mouth with one last kiss, talking against Steve’s mouth. “C’mon, before I change my mind and fuck you right here.”

Steve groans. “Is that supposed to deter me?”  
  
“Christ,” Bucky swears, shaking his head. He swats Steve’s ass none too gently. 

“Alright, alright,” Steve laughs and clumsily stands up, freeing Bucky while he does up his pants and replaces his belt. 

“Ugh,” Bucky grimaces at the tacky wet feeling in his shorts and adjusts himself unceremoniously much to Steve’s amusement. 

Steve reaches out the hand not holding his rumpled, soiled shirt and Bucky takes it with his own then turns to leave when he sees them. Natasha’s Primas are sitting abandoned on her lounger – without a doubt left there intentionally. Bucky grins and picks up the packet, tucking it into his pocket. 

They are _definitely_ doing that again. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! (and sticking with me through what feels like endless dry spells, yikes!) Comments and kudos are love <3


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